


Rub the Skin Raw

by imdeansgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, High School, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdeansgirl/pseuds/imdeansgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you wake up on your eighteenth birthday, you’re supposed to be excited. You search your body for the name tattooed on you, and await the day you meet them. And then—supposedly—you live happily ever after. Sometimes, though, you’re not your soulmate’s soulmate. This is, sort of, the case of Kevin Tran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rub the Skin Raw

**Author's Note:**

> *gasp* another soulmate au whaaaaat??? im so crazy and out of the box amazing

When you wake up on your eighteenth birthday, you’re supposed to be excited. You search your body for the name tattooed on you, and await the day you meet them. And then—supposedly—you live happily ever after. Sometimes, though, you’re not your soulmate’s soulmate. Which sucks. But that’s just part of the system. If you get your girlfriend’s name, and she gets the name of the guy who lives down the street from her, well, you’re out of luck. It just works out that way. 

This is, sort of, the case of Kevin Tran.

When he wakes up of his eighteenth birthday, he feels nothing other than dread. He has been sure for years what the name written on his body would be. And it isn’t the name of his long term girlfriend, Channing. When he looks down, blearily rubbing sleep out of his eyes, to see the name _Sam_ written in sloppy cursive across his wrist,he’s proven right.

His first instinct, though it proves a rather stupid one, is to rush to the bathroom and tries to scrub it off. Of course, it doesn’t work—it never has, for anyone—but he scrubs until his skin is red and raw underneath his mother’s loofa. When he gives up, he sits down on the edge of his tub and cries. Not full-on sobbing, but gentle-falling tears that run down fingertips and settle in his palms. The kind of silent crying that is just for a release of emotions; not one that calls for attention, but shows the feelings pouring from a broken heart.

To explain further, know that Sam Winchester is Kevin’s best friend. They’ve known each other for almost all of their lives; Sam’s family comes over for Sunday dinners, for instance, and Mary taught Kevin how to bake pies. Sam—the youngest of two boys in the Winchester family—was immediately drawn to Kevin when they moved into the neighborhood. They’d been having sleepovers, street hockey games, and impromptu picnics ever since. Sam turned eighteen five weeks ago. Kevin hadn’t seen the name imprinted on Sam himself, but they’d hung out both on his birthday and in the days since, and Sam had acted as if everything was normal. He supposed this meant that the name printed on Sam’s body was _Jess,_ the name of his girlfriend of two years. Jess will turn eighteen only a few days after Kevin, and she and Sam will get their happily ever after. 

Kevin, though, will never get this happily ever after. Sam surely doesn’t have his name, and, of course, as is his luck, Kevin doesn’t have the name _Channing_ anywhere on him. He’s been dating Channing for a while. After Sam began dating Jess (which was painful for Kevin, of course, who was in love with his best friend), he insisted that Kevin needed someone too. So he asked Jess if she knew anyone who’d be interested, and she kindly set him up with Channing. (Kindly being the operative word, because Jess, of course, is a wonderful and sweet ray of sunshine, irrationally lovable. So he can’t even hate the girl who’s stolen his soulmate, because this is his life.) Channing turned eighteen two months and three days ago, and she had _Kevin_ written in his neat handwriting swiftly on her collarbone. She showed him proudly, with a wide smile and bright eyes, and his heart shattered.

Channing is a perfectly nice girl. She’s sweet, and smart, and intelligent, and Kevin is attracted to her romantically and sexually. But she just isn’t Sam. Sam, who comforted him when his father died, and stayed up under blankets with flashlights reading comic books, and writes cruddy poetry that he reads out loud in dramatic voices. She isn’t a bright grin under whiskey eyes, or a nervous tapping pencil studying for exams, or the smell of clean linen no matter how late or early it is. She isn’t the clicking of keys on a laptop, or text books piled up on top of a tiny desk, or a pile of cassette tapes left over from Dean. She’s Channing, not Sam. And it’s unfair to compare them.

He goes back to his room and stuffs himself into long sleeves, even though it’s June and the sun is pouring down in waves onto Kansas. For extra precaution, he pulls his watch on over his left wrist before leaving, driving his mother’s car to Channing’s house, as he does most mornings. She slides into the passenger’s seat and grins, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday,” she says cheerfully. “How was your morning?”

He shrugs as he pulls back into drive. “It was okay.”

~-~

The rest of his birthday passes in a blur. He passes the day away in school, where he avoids Sam, Channing, and Jess as much as possible. Which is hard to do, considering they’re the only people he speaks to. And they’re all brilliant, so they all share the same classes. He manages not to make eye contact, and skips lunch to ‘study.’ Instead he sits in the library, chats with Mrs. Rosen-Shirley until the bell, and heads to his next class with his head down.

After school, he tries to duck out again, telling Channing he has work to do. But then Sam arrives, Jess on his arm, and grins. “Hey man!” he says, and his voice is like honey music. His smile is bright and white and blinding. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” Kevin mumbles, putting his Anatomy textbook into his bag. 

Jess looks as cheery as ever as she suggests, “We should celebrate!” In one swift movement, she brings her hand down and entangles it with Sam’s. Kevin feels himself tense, glances down at his wrist unsurely. “You only turn eighteen once.”

“Yeah,” Channing agrees, putting her hand feather lightly on his shoulder. “Take some time off, Kevin. It’s your birthday. We’re graduating soon.”

But it’s Sam, smiling brightly and swinging his and Jess’ hands back and forth, that makes him say, “Alright.”

~-~ 

They end up going out to the woods—Channing drives them to and from, and the other three drink and smoke. Jess gets giggly when she’s high and/or drunk. She draws patterns on trees and falls into Sam’s lap and kisses whispered words into his mouth. Sam gets very contemplative; he ponders the meaning of life and asks questions and gets very suddenly serious. Kevin is quiet. He watches as Jess and Sam mess around, and simply stares back as Channing observes him.

When she drives them home, Sam says he’ll just crash at Kevin’s place, simply because Kevin’s mom isn’t home while his is, and kisses Jess goodbye. Kevin simply stumbles out of the car, pretending he’s too drunk to remember to kiss Channing, and leads the way up and into his house. 

Kevin and Sam end up in his bedroom, leaning up against his bed. Sam’s enormously long legs are stretched out in front of him; he has a bottle of whiskey in one hand and lays the other in between them on the floor. Kevin has his knees tucked up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs to keep himself from falling over. 

“Sam,” he says, eventually. This is possibly the first word he’s spoken all evening, and probably the most he’s said to Sam all day. “We’re graduating in a couple weeks.” Sam says nothing. He simply makes a noncommittal humming noise, focusing his eyes on his leg as he bounces it on the floor. “Do you think… we’ll keep in touch?”

For a moment, Sam just considers this as he swishes the whiskey in the bottle. Then he says, “I don’t know. Shit happens, Kev—life happens. In a couple years, Jess might be living in Paris like she always wanted. Channing might be a fucking scientist.” He sips from the bottle again before continuing. “But you and I? I think we’ll be okay.”

This surprises Kevin. He lifts his head to look at the Sam, though only his profile is visible. “Seriously?” he asks. He’s surprised to see that Sam nods, confirming he really thinks their friendship will last through the years. “Oh.”

Sam shrugs, then shifts, pulling one of his knees up to his chest and resting his hand on it. “When you got your mark this morning…” Sam starts, and Kevin stiffens. It’s almost unheard of to ask another person about their soulmate, and it’s even worse in this particular situation. “Was it Channing?” He must notice how tense Kevin is, since he rushes to cover. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I was just.” He shifts again. “Wondering.”

They sit in silence for a while after that. Sam sips from the whiskey bottle and Kevin stares blankly ahead as they stew in the question Sam has asked. Eventually, in the dark of night, in silence and shadows, Kevin admits in a breath of a whisper, “No. It… wasn’t Channing.”

He can’t see Sam’s face anymore, as it becomes overshadowed by night, but he feels him nod. “Alright,” he says.

“Jess turns eighteen in a few days,” Kevin says casually. “Right before graduation.”

“Hm.”

“Guess she’s going to have your name?” He nudges Sam’s ankle with the toe of his converse. “Happily ever after for you guys, huh?”

He expects Sam to answer, but he never does. They just sit in silence until they both fall asleep.

~-~

Kevin breaks it off with Channing two days later. There’s four days to go until graduation. She cries a little and asks why. She cries more when she knows that it isn’t her name on his wrist. They end on good terms, but Channing asks that they don’t speak for a while. It’s a very quiet affair; no one even knows until they’re no longer speaking in school.

Two days later brings Jess’s birthday. It seems as if Sam’s name isn’t printed on her, but _Jo._ They argue, and their breakup is very public. Afterwards, they both make themselves scarce; Sam doesn’t speak to Kevin and Jess is barely anywhere to be seen.

Graduation comes, and all four of them show up, but none of them speak to each other. Kevin’s mom sits in the bleachers and cries, smiling and taking pictures as he takes his diplomas and shakes his principal’s hand.

They go out to lunch, and his mom cries some more. She tells him how proud of him she is, and tells him she loves him. He tells her about everything going on—from Sam to Channing to Jess—and she shakes her head fondly. “Honey,” she says, “when you’re in college, this will all seem like a distant dream.”

He really hopes she’s right.

~-~

Kevin goes a few weeks without talking to any of his friends. He sees Channing’s posts on Facebook; she’s cut off all of her hair, and is going on a cross-country trip with her parents before college. Jess does not text him, nor call him, like she used to. Her social media is inactive, and he hasn’t seen her around the neighborhood.

He and Sam are dancing around each other, suspended in silence with closed lips and eyes. Kevin’s opened a thousand new messages and began a thousand new sentences, but erased them all. On Facebook, he’s seen the _message being typed_ symbol under Sam’s name, but the message notification never goes off. He doesn’t know what they’re avoiding, just that it’s there and that it isn’t going away anytime soon.

In the mail, a chance to study across the country for the summer arrives. His mom looks into it and says it’s an amazing opportunity and an incredible program. He decides to accept.

One day, he returns from the daily run he’s begun to take (because the silence and the nothingness was too much to bear), and Sam is laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. “Hey Kev,” he says, glancing over. “Thought you’d never come home.”

He’s been standing at the door and standing, jaw agape, for a few seconds now. But he comes in and plops down at his desk chair. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to say what he’s feeling, so he just asks, “Why are you here?”

Sam snorts as he pulls himself up to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Any way to greet your best friend after weeks of radio silence?” Kevin rolls his eyes and stands, crossing to pick up a new shirt out of his pile of clean ones. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m kidding. How’ve you been?”

He glances over at Sam, who looks honest and open. He shrugs. “Could be better,” he says. He pauses for a second, then says, “Channing and I broke up.”

“I heard,” Sam says.

There’s an awkward pause, then Kevin tacks on, “You and Jess broke up.”

After a second, Sam shrugs. “Weren’t meant to be,” he says. 

Kevin shakes his head, then tugs off his shirt. “I thought you were gonna last forever,” he admits. “Sucks that you weren’t her soulmate, huh?” He shakes his head as he pulls on his other shirt.

“Yeah, but she wasn’t mine either.”

He pauses, then turns to look at Sam. He looks sincere. “Seriously?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, no. I really thought we were gonna work out, but.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “She just wasn’t meant for me.”

Nodding, Kevin sits on his chair again. “I feel like the breakups were why there were silence,” he says. “None of us knew—know what to do with each other.”

“I don’t think that’s why.”

Kevin raises his eyebrows. “Why?”

Instead of answering, Sam changes the subject. “Your mom came to tell me you’re going away,” he says, toying with a loose thread on Kevin’s blankets.

He nods. “Just for the summer,” he says. “But we’re both going to Stanford, so.”

“Jess went away to Paris,” Sam blurts out, suddenly looking up.

Kevin is taken aback by this. He didn’t think she’d actually leave, and if she did, not so soon. “Oh,” he says. “Guess that’s why she hasn’t texted me or anything.”

“Yeah, don’t think that’s why either.”

Kevin rolls his eyes. “Can you stop being so cryptic and tell me straight up what you think is happening?”

Sam huffs, but says, “It’s because you’re why we broke up.”

That’s odd. Kevin lifts his eyebrows. “I thought it was because you weren’t her soulmate,” he says.

“Yeah, well, _she wasn’t mine either._ ”

And then it clicks. Oh. “Oh.”

“Is… is that okay?” Sam asks carefully.

His whole mouth feels as dry as the summer heat, like the heavy air is inside his whole body, expanding him with every breath he takes. It’s heavy in his chest and he feels the question on his shoulders. “Can… I see it?”

Sam nods, and slips his watch off. _Kevin_ is written on his wrist in his neat and pristine writing, and it’s actually there and visible. Kevin doesn’t say anything; he just slips off his own wristband and crosses the room, putting his wrist next to Sam’s. For a moment, nothing is said. And then Sam grins, pressing their wrists together and intertwining their fingers. “We’re _idiots,_ ” he says. Kevin couldn’t agree more.


End file.
